He was deep in the forest now, the occasional rustle of leaves a reminder of the 5th realm Qi Condensation beasts lurking in the shadows. He'd seen one earlier –- a fleeting glimpse of fur before it vanished into the undergrowth.
Then—
A presence. Not just another rustling in the leaves. Something bigger. Weighty.
After two hours of relentless trekking, he finally located his quarry – a beast nibbling on a similar fruit.
Ahead, a beast—a deer, but unlike any he'd seen before. Blood-red fur rippled over lean, powerful muscles, and its eyes held a sharp, unsettling intelligence. Antlers, like twisted, thorny branches, rose from its head, a faint aura of Qi swirling around them. It chewed the fruit, jaw working rhythmically, seemingly oblivious—for now.
Zhen swallowed hard. Damn, that's one big deer! Seventh realm of Qi Condensation.
His fingers tightened around his makeshift spear, one of three he had crafted precisely for this kind of moment. His pulse quickened, not out of fear—no, he told himself—but anticipation.
Then the deer moved.
Its head snapped up, swiveling towards him.
For a moment, they were locked in an instant of stillness. Then, with no warm-up, the deer charged.
Zhen's grip tightened as he channeled his qi, the stars within his acupoints started rotating, and the world seemed to decelerate.
As in previous fight, all of his senses were amplified when he focused. He could hear the trees and leaves in the forest rustle in the wind. The scent of damp earth and crushed grass filled his nose.
He could feel the subtle change in air pressure and temperature that he couldn't normally be able to tell. He could see the colors in the forest much more vividly than he could just a minute before. Almost there… wait for it…
The deer's hooves, a blur of motion, pounded against the earth, but in his perception, each step slowed down a fraction. But then, as the beast gathered its own Qi, its speed redoubled.
And then—
The deer exploded forward, impossibly fast. Faster than he'd anticipated.
Damn! His breath hitched. His eyes widened—a fraction of a second too late.
The side-thrust he had planned was disrupted as the beast adjusted its speed mid-charge, the Qi-infused antlers gleaming like wicked scythes. Instinct roared louder than reason. He wrenched himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the full force of the attack.
In that split second when the antlers collided, he willed the Diamond Skin technique to form over his chest. At the same time, he thrust his spear toward the beast's neck with all his might. A fraction of resistance—then he sent a sharp burst of one-tenth of his qi discharged through the weapon. The energy snaked toward the deer's flesh, penetrating—
Then the violent burst of qi surging from his hand overwhelmed the wooden spear and shattered it into countless pieces.
Boom!
The deer's Qi-charged antlers slammed into his ribs. The half-formed Diamond Skin shattered like fragile glass. White-hot and blinding pain exploded from his side—two ribs snapping like brittle twigs.
His vision swam, the world tilting on its axis. He tasted blood, the coppery tang turning his stomach. Not the best flavor. But through the haze, he saw the deer stagger, its crimson fur matted with blood. A gaping wound, a gruesome mess of flesh and bone, marred the left side of its neck. The beast made a horrible gurgling sound, then crumpled to the forest floor.
Zhen was used to seeing animals butchered so he didn't get disgusted seeing the innards of this beast.
But instead of dying, the beast was only down as the blood slowly stopped. Looking over it Zhen realized that killing a spiritual beast is quite hard. Now it is a race before time…
Forget passively gathering qi, I need to end this quickly. He fumbled for a spirit stone, his fingers clumsy and unresponsive. He refined it swiftly, feeling the energy flood his body, the stars within spinning faster. It was a temporary jolt, but it was enough. He lurched to his feet, ignoring the fiery protest in his side, and grabbed his knife.
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The deer's head weakly lifted, its dark eyes, glazed with pain, locking with his. Its nostrils flared, desperately sucking in air.
Sorry, buddy. Nothing personal. He snatched up his second spear as he moved, adrenaline momentarily masking the agony in his ribs.
The beast tried to rise, a pathetic, scrabbling attempt. It let out a low, mournful groan, its legs flailing uselessly.
With a surge of grim determination, he struck again. The spear thrusting into the same wound, and then unleashing another controlled burst of qi.
There was a sickening crunch, a spray of blood, and a ghastly ripping sound as a third of the deer's neck was practically blown apart. The beast collapsed, its body convulsing once, then falling still. Its head lolled at an unnatural angle. This time, it was truly dead.
After field dressing his wounds and applying a little qi to his ribs to lessen the pain, he turned back his attention, he examined the carcass. The antlers, thankfully, were intact, radiating a faint spiritual energy. The rest of the body was quickly losing some of its qi.
Alchemical gold, he thought, carefully severing the antlers. He then hacked off a sizable chunk of meat and wrapped it in a giant, waxy leaf.
Opening the book Common Beasts of the Southern Divine Continent, Zhen searched for the deer he had just killed.
Ah, here it is. Crimson Thorn Deer.
Antlers are highly valued in the refinement of weapons and accelerate qi circulation in formations.
The book also mentioned their solitary nature, a stark contrast to the herding deer back on Earth. Guess in a world of cultivation, it's every beast for itself.
Distant cries echoed through the forest. Other beasts, drawn by the scent of blood, or fleeing the commotion? He didn't stick around to find out.
Zhen plucked a few more spiritual fruits on his way back, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the deep greens of the forest.
A rustling in the undergrowth made his ears twitch. Low-level beasts. He barely spared them a glance. With a flicker of Qi, they scattered, vanishing like mist under the morning sun. Good for them, smart choice.
? ? ?
By the time he reached his hut, the weight of the hunt settled into his limbs. He dumped the spoils—fresh meat, antlers, and whatever else he could salvage—before heading straight back to his room to bandage himself.
Zhen flexed his fingers, then curled them into a fist. His knuckles ached, his ribs still throbbed from the last fight, a dull reminder of his inadequacy. The technique had saved him—barely. A partial defense was no defense at all. Next time, if his enemy struck just a little harder, a little faster…
He exhaled sharply, shaking off the thought. There wouldn't be a next time. Not if he mastered this.
The unease gnawed at him, though, coiling tight in his gut. This technique came from the Martial Arts Pavilion—one of the many incomplete fragments from the Broken Path. Flawed. Imperfect. Hopefully, there should lack of difficult concepts and my cultivation won't get wrecked.
He rolled his shoulders. No point hesitating.
With a sharp inhale, he set the scroll on the ground, forcing his thoughts into stillness. The moment he targeted the scroll and activated his skill, the golden words flooded his vision.
Diamond Skin Technique
Inspired by the legendary Diamond Physique, this technique harnesses the Law of Hardness to form intricate fractal patterns of solidified Qi upon the ski—
As Zhen immersed himself in the scroll's description, the stars within his acupoints spun with furious energy, dissipating vast amounts of qi.
Then, as the last dregs of his reserves were drained, one of the stars at the periphery of his Dantian began to spin erratically. It pulsed with light, then slowly, gradually, it faded, becoming ethereal, almost illusory...
After what felt like an eternity, he finished reading, and the golden words disintegrated.
He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, forcing himself to grasp at the remnants of the knowledge seared into his mind. The technique. The structure. The flow of qi. The mystic pattern. Hold onto it. He repeated it again, silently, over and over, solidifying what little remained.
His breath steadied. His pulse slowed.
With a final exhale, he opened his eyes and turned his attention to his golden finger.
Sage's Daily Scroll of Heavenly, Earthly, and Mortal Insights.
Target Available In 21:42:33
Well… it was different, at least. Three hours. Only three hours were spent trying to decipher the Diamond Skin Technique.
A wave of weakness slammed into him. His knees buckled, his vision swam, and he barely managed to stagger to his mat before collapsing onto it.
Deep breath in. Hold. Slow exhale.
His mind dipped inward, scanning the damage. The loss was undeniable—only eight stars remained. His gut twisted. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling under his skin.
"Damn it." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
So that was the cost. Using the golden words on any technique consumed his own cultivation in return.
The only small mercy was that it had been a peripheral star. He learned enough about his own body to understand the risk—stars closer to his Dantian held far more energy. If he had lost one of those, the damage would've been worse.
He exhaled sharply, shaking off the fatigue as best he could. Dwelling on the loss wouldn't help him recover. He still had a chance to recover.
Dragging himself upright, he steadied his breath and began the Hundred Stars Refinement. Qi trickled through his meridians, slow and measured, filling the remaining eight stars with what little energy he had left. One at a time. Rebuilding, bit by bit.
The ninth would return, eventually. He just had to push himself.
And pray that nothing forced him into battle before then.
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